


Anarchy

by C_VSM



Category: Political RPF, Political RPF - Luxembourg 21st c., Political RPF - Netherlands 21st c.
Genre: Gen, Unnamed POV - Freeform, first person POV
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-09
Updated: 2019-12-09
Packaged: 2021-03-12 05:20:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 719
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21735268
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/C_VSM/pseuds/C_VSM
Summary: Inspired by a too high consumption of political news, the looming threat of a revolution, and maladaptive daydreaming.
Kudos: 2





	Anarchy

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by a too high consumption of political news, the looming threat of a revolution, and maladaptive daydreaming.

A couple of years ago, nobody could even imagine that our "developed" world would be hit by another revolution. Let alone one this size.

I speed-walked out of the airport, keeping the hood of my coat over my face, careful not to attract attention. I had just flown in from neutral ground, a safezone, but the people here knew me. After all, the revolution was partially my fault too.

The city was under complete anarchy. Streets were burning, people were screaming and fighting everywhere, public transport was out of service; traveling by car or any other vehicle was out of the question.

Guess I'll go on foot.

I sped up my pace, just barely not running yet, still covering my face. I was supposed to meet a friend in front of the parliament, but I doubt I'll make it that far.

He had volunteered to help me rescue the prime minister of this now anarchy-ruled kingdom; the royal family had fled ages ago, and if he were to not do the same now, his people would rip him to shreds.

I raised my gaze towards the darkened sky; it was about to rain. But in a moment of carelessness, a gust of wind got caught up in my hood, pulling it away from my face.

Oh, no.

The crowd around me fell silent immediately, and I knew it was too late. They had recognised me.

The only thing I could do was run.

I took off, my coat flailing behind me, a crowd of fifty-or-so angry Dutchmen on my tail. I could clearly make out their screams; the insults and slurs they threw at me.

Sometimes I regretted learning the language.

I kept running, I had no other choice. Thankfully I had gotten in a way better shape than I used to be, they wouldn't be catching me soon.

Left, right, left, right, right again; no matter how many corners I turned I couldn't get rid of my persecutors. Luckily for me, I know this city by heart, I know many ways to reach my destination. But luckily for them, so do they.

I kept running.

I could make out the shape of the building. I was almost there, I could do this.

My body was slowly giving up, I couldn't run for much longer. The angry mob behind me was growing weary too, there were only about ten of them chasing me now. Unfortunately, the closer to the crisis area I got, the more people there were, and they caught on to what was happening quickly, racing after me themselves.

I was almost there.

Suddenly, I saw a very familiar face jump up in front of me, pulling me aside into a narrow, dimly lit alley, away from the angry mob.

Xavier.

"Are you okay? Did they get you?" he panted, just as out of breath as I was. He was holding me tightly by my lower arms, brows furrowed in distress.

"No, no, I'm okay. I'm faster than them," I replied, catching my breath.

"Soen Gott."

He let go of me, leaning his head on the wall behind him, still breathing heavily.

I looked at him with both gratitude and curiosity.

"How did you find me?"

He let out a dry laugh, leaning down to make eye contact.

"It wasn't exactly difficult with that mob of people you've got chasing you."

"Fair enough," I chuckled, leaning on the wall opposite of him.

"What do we do now?"

His face got serious again, and I took a second to study him. Even in the dim lighting of the single lightbulb in the alleyway, I could clearly see the toll these events have had on him. He had horrible bags under his eyes, his hair was a complete mess, and worst of all, he'd lost his trademark spark of happiness in his eyes.

I wonder what'd happened to his husband.

"There's a side door that the people don't know about; we sneak in there without attracting attention, find Mark, and get back to the airport."

I nodded.

"Sounds simple enough, but how will we get to the other side alive?"

He went completely silent for a moment, his usually warm brown eyes now stone cold, and piercing my own.

"You pull up your hood and pray to the Gods."


End file.
